


need you like i'd breathe you

by duixote



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aftercare, Breathplay, But only in Chapter 2, Choking, Consensual Non-Consent, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, One is a, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, The other ending is just non-con, Two Endings, heed the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25847152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duixote/pseuds/duixote
Summary: Suna takes. Perhaps Osamu wants to give.Read the warnings and tags carefully. Chapter specific warnings in authors notes at the beginning of each chapter
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 19
Kudos: 166





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 is where the smut is. Chapter 2 has the happy ending. Chapter 3 has the bad end. Read 1+2 if you want rape roleplay with aftercare. Read 1+3 for manipulative non-con/dub-con. Or read all three chapters if you want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the main chapter. Chapter 2 and 3 are just endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very dark themes, non-con which becomes dub-con which becomes non-con with heavy coercion and manipulation.

Osamu wakes to a hand heavy over his face. The touch itself is not unexpected, he’s much too used to sharing a bed with Atsumu’s stupid stray limbs, but the _forcefullness_ of it is.

He startles, snapping to wakefulness in an instant. Shaking his head fiercely, he tries to dislodge the fingers now pinching at his nose, covering his mouth, _cutting off his air_. His hands are pinned painfully into his shikibuton by bony knees, pressing down cruelly as he thrashes.

Panic threatens to overwhelm his senses, despite his best efforts to stay calm. He can fight through this. What was the fucking use of all those hours they’d put into practise if he wasn’t strong? 

It doesn’t work. 

His jackrabbiting heartbeat pumps fear instead of oxygen through his veins. Through his rapidly blurring vision Osamu can see the figure of his assailant. The _hauntingly familiar_ figure of his assailant. There’s lean strength in that bare torso, he’s seen it in action. The distinct shape of that hair, inexplicably still triangular despite the showers they’d all taken a few hours prior.

_Suna._

_Why?_

“You better not be thinking about screaming for help ‘Samu,” Suna says, tone friendly “Or we’ll both find out how quickly I can dislocate Atsumu’s thumb hmm?” he continues. “...A tragic injury for any setter... shame it's such an easy mistake to make...a trip and awkward fall in unfamiliar hallways on the way to the bathroom...” 

Suna makes a pointed glance at the other sleeping form in the room. Atsumu. He had been so stressed earlier, trying to master his jump floaters. It wouldn’t do to disturb him now.

“Or…” Suna continues casually, “I can let you go. As long as you promise not to get in the way when I do it to Atsumu instead. Your choice.”

Mercifully, the fingers pinching Osamu’s nose ease off. He makes sure that his desperate breath of air stays quiet, both for his sake and Atsumu’s. Suna’s hand is still covering his mouth, thumb rubbing circles on his cheek in a mockery of gentleness.

“Will you be good Osamu?” 

It is the easiest decision he’s ever made. 

He nods, and he feels Suna’s thumb jump, interrupting its gentle caress. 

“Say it for me then.” The hand covering his mouth eases its harsh pressure. He ignores the instinct to scream. He doesn’t want Atsumu to see him like this.

“Yes.”

“Yes what Osamu?” Suna’s voice is the same easy tone he uses when he offers Osamu a smile and a hi-five for a nice kill. When he gives Osamu half of his lunch. He always said his mother _packed too much._

That boy seems a lifetime away from the Suna looming over him.

“Yes...I’ll be good.” He grits out, flexing his own fingers against the shikibuton. He lets his hands go limp, palms resting gently. A silent promise to _behave._

Suna’s weight shifts off his hands. He resists the urge to push him away. Atsumu had always been a heavier sleeper, and the room is small enough that Suna could easily reach him before Osamu could put up any real resistance. 

He can see Suna’s expression, the moonlight falling over the sharp planes of his face and lighting up the hunger in his eyes. There is none of the shy hesitation with which Suna normally treats him. Suna’s movements are stable and sure, the smirk gliding across his features and making a home in the dip of his cupid’s bow. It makes Osamu wonder what’s the act, the Suna in front of him or the one of his memories. Or worse. If they were both just Suna, and it was Osamu that had done something to tip the scales, to invite him act like this.

He suppresses a shudder, willing himself to be as still as possible. _Like prey staring down a predator._

Weird fucking moment for his brain to get poetic on him.

Suna is sitting back on his heels now, moving off Osamu to remove the comforter still covering him. The air is cold as it hits his bare body. He can feel himself tense. Suna flicks at a hardening nipple and Osamu lets out a yelp before he can stop himself. 

A rough hand is on his throat in an instant, pushing enough to be a warning but not a threat. _Keep quiet._ It says. _Know what’s at stake here._

He can’t help the pathetic way his own hands flutter near his own neck, wanting to pry away Suna’s grip but paradoxically knowing what would happen if he did. He was stronger than Suna. He could throw him off with a well aimed buck of his hips and an elbow to Suna’s face. Instead, he drops his hands and forces himself to go lax.

“I thought you were gonna be good for me, but if you want to wake Atsumu, be my guest. He can watch you get fucked like a whore.” Suna leans down and hisses venom into Osamu’s ear. “Would you like that Osamu?”  
  
Osamu sees red for a fleeting second, deeply resenting every single fucking decision that lead to his life right now. Why the fuck did he have to be the kinder twin? Selfishly, he wishes it were Atsumu instead, and himself sleeping blissfully ignorant. Atsumu with Suna’s fingers threatening bruises into his skin. Atsumu with Suna’s hand snaking up his thigh, bending his knee, cold touch grazing his ass. But instead of Atsumu, it’s Osamu on his back, with his legs spread and breath misting in the cold night air.

As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Suna continues, “...or would you like to watch? Atsumu’s a fair bit louder than you, but I think he’d look similar enough for it to work. At least he should _feel_ similar enough.” 

Suna has the audacity to shrug casually at this.

“But the guilt would eat you alive wouldn’t it? Knowing that yer the one that seduced me into this, yer the one that forced my hand ‘Samu” his voice drawls, faux kansai-ben highlighting the obvious. If Osamu hadn’t led him on, they wouldn’t be in this situation. Atsumu wouldn’t be in danger at all. Just as Suna predicted, the guilt rises in his heart, pumping through his body, carried by his own veins. How could he have been so _selfish_ as to wish this upon Atsumu, when it was his fault all along.  
  


He finally breaks eye contact with Suna. Raising his legs, he twines them around Suna’s waist. He arches his back, tilts his head back and lifts his arms to rest his wrists next to his head.

_An invitation,_ and Suna knows it. 

Hands are on his, long fingers gathering both of his wrists into one of Suna’s and pinning them above his head. He sneaks a look at the expression on Suna’s face and finds it unbearably tender. Suna looks at Osamu reverently, drinking the sight of him stretched out like an offering. Painted under the pale moonlight streaming in through the windows, a spark of expectation jumps between them.

Osamu looks away quickly, and tries to tell himself that the racing pace of his heart was from fear alone.

“Have you done this before?” Suna asks. Osamu can feel his hand gliding down his body, the touch making it plenty clear what _this_ was. He debates the merits of lying. The hope that Suna might be gentle for his first time wins over his desire to put up any macho bravado about how many people he’d slept with.

“No,” he admits, the confession rushing out of him, “yer the first.”  
  


It was the right thing to say. 

He can see Suna’s eyes soften as he leans in to capture Osamu’s mouth in a kiss, nipping and sucking at his lips. The warm heat of Suna’s tongue presses against Osamu’s own, sliding spit slick into his mouth. It’s more gentle than he’d have expected, as if Suna was seeking absolution between Osamu’s lips. A mockery of love.

Like _hell_ Osamu was going to give it to him. He’d never been _that_ good at backing down from a fight.

A well placed knee to Suna’s groin leaves him gasping in pain. Fingernails dig into Osamu’s wrists, and he stills a wince.

“The fuck was that for?” Suna says angrily.

“Don’t go fuckin’ sappy on me Rintarou, we both know what this is about,” Osamu frees one wrist, smiling with his teeth bared as a frown flitters across Suna’s face. He brings it up to caress Suna’s cheek before twisting his fingers into Suna’s (really fucking triangular) hair and yanking down, _hard._

“If ya gonna fuck me, fuck me like ya mean it.” He grits through his teeth, spitting the words right into Suna’s face. His grip in Suna’s hair not letting him back away. “Come on ya bastard, take me. Or are ya gonna back down like a coward?”

Something dark flitters across Suna’s expression. The mischievous light in his eyes blinks out, replaced by a cold, cruel glint.. Suna moves slowly, untangling Osamu’s fingers from his hair. He presses fleeting kisses to Osamu’s fingers before interlocking them with his own. Suna was absolutely terrifying. Osamu would’ve thought that after being attacked and provoked, that he would respond with predictable, bearable violence. Not maintain this facade of loving tenderness.

Osamu flinches as Suna brings a hand up to his face, but he only brushes Osamu’s hair away from where it was tickling near his eyes. How did he _know?_ Just how long had he been watching Osamu’s little habits, to the point where Suna would’ve learnt that Osamu always pinned his fringe back in training because it was getting a little too long and irritating now. This...this wasn’t a spur of the moment decision, Osamu realised. Suna had been _planning_ this, probably thinking about it as he laughed and passed Osamu a water bottle in practise. He feels so dirty. Even as he lies untouched, pinned down merely with a soft touch at his forehead and fingers laced between his, Osamu has been laid bare by Suna’s eyes so many times over already. 

“Osamu, darling, I think you’ve gotten it confused.” His voice snaps Osamu to attention.

Osamu feels Suna’s finger trace a lazy line down the bridge of his nose as he continues.  
  


“‘Samu ‘Samu, you seem to be under the impression that you don’t want this.”  
  
Suna’s finger is ghosting over his lips now, persistently tracing their shape but not yet insisting on more.

“I won’t need to _take_ anything from you,” Suna’s face is suddenly close in his vision, “not when you’re so desperate to give already.” 

Suna’s fingers unlace to creep up Osamu’s thigh. Osamu hears his breath hitching in fear before he can stop himself. _Weak, pathetic._ “...otherwise why would you be hard right now?” 

He’s smirking, cupping Osamu’s erection and rolling his palm lazily over it. Osamu’s dick twitches in response, betrayed by his own biology. He doesn’t want this. Does he?

“You still want to try lying to me?” Suna hisses, moving with sudden violence. He grips Osamu’s hair punishingly tight as he leans down in a reflection of Osamu’s failed attempt to provoke him earlier. 

“Pretending you don’t want it, pretending you didn’t practically fucking beg for it. At least your body is honest Osamu, it knows that you’re just a slut desperate to be fucked.”

A quick stroke of Suna’s hand drags a whimper out of Osamu, the sound thin and _broken._

He yanks Osamu’s briefs down, freeing his erection as Suna gives two experimental pumps of his dick. This time, the whimper becomes a moan, before being swiftly silenced by Suna’s hand over his mouth. Two fingers push their way past his lips, pumping in and out lazily.

“ _Quiet._ Use your mouth for better things.” Osamu keeps his mouth lax as Suna fucks into it with his fingers. He doesn’t want to take an active part, doesn’t want to help Suna as he violates his body but being impassive makes him feel like an object. Just something to be used. His traitorous dick leaks at the thought. Shit. Was he getting off on this?

“You’re so easy, I haven’t even been inside you yet and you’re moaning like a whore. At this rate you’ll wake Atsumu up sooner rather than later.” Suna looks pensive for a moment, brow furrowed. 

“Guess I’ll just have to keep your mouth occupied like the fuck hole that it is then. I’m reeeeally doing both of us a favour.”

The filthy words send heat pooling in Osamu’s stomach. He’s painfully hard now, rutting against Suna’s hand to try and get more friction. 

Suna chuckles.

“I knew you’d like that. You love being used like the slut that you are.” Osamu chokes off a surprised gasp as Suna’s hands move to grope his bare ass.

Shoving him onto his side, Suna moves to settle comfortably behind Osamu. Long, taped fingers are on his hips, pressing bruises like kisses into the skin there. They hold him still as Suna’s clothed erection ruts behind Osamu, making his intentions clear as day. This was going to happen, Osamu realised. He was fucked, literally, and he’d let it happen. 

Osamu flinches at the sound of a lube bottle uncapping. _Thank god for small mercies._

Sliding one slick finger to rub at Osamu’s hole, Suna brings his other hand up to Osamu’s face as a preemptive gag. _Smart._

He breathes a muffled groan against Suna’s palm as one finger slides in with ease. Suna is _inside of him._ The sensation is odd, not painful but entirely unpleasant. He feels too full, squirming and bucking his hips to try and alleviate the uncomfortable pressure. Suna only drives his finger deeper in retaliation, eliciting another muffled sound from Osamu. Another finger squeezes in with a sickeningly wet squelch. He can hear himself making pathetic mewling noises, as the fingers slowly scissor him open, but he can’t stop himself. He feels overwhelmed, haggard like he’d just sprinted for miles. Legs trembling, fists clenched. Suddenly, Suna brushes against something inside that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through his body. He twitches, gasping against Suna’s palm. 

_Stop, stop. It’s too much,_ he wants to say, but all that comes out is a muffled “mmph”. 

Suna clicks in irritation, pinching Osamu’s tongue between his fingers as he forces Osamu to face him. With his tongue caught like this, Osamu feels like a dog staring up at its master.

“Not another word from you, unless it’s ‘deeper’ or ‘faster’. I’m trying to be nice ‘Samu, but you’re really testing my patience here.” Suna’s voice is pouty and teasing, more like he’s told a good joke than gagging Osamu while his fingers are buried deep in his ass. 

“You’re almost all prepped, though I am a fair bit wider than two fingers. Not to brag of course.” 

The same lighthearted teasing tone continues, as Suna plunges another finger in. Osamu takes great care to not react more than an involuntary twitch of his leg.

“Loosen up, after all, one glance at your face and leaking dick tells me that you’re enjoying this.” 

Suna is smiling. An earnest, honest to god smile with no malice in his eyes. Somehow, it’s even more menacing.

“Though I think you’ll like what’s to come even more.” 

The fingers slide out his ass. His empty hole twitches and clenches like it’s trying to hold onto the intruding fingers. He _knows_ Suna felt it when he hears a light chuckle, the sound accompanied by the ‘click’ of the lube bottle being uncapped again. Sparing a look behind him, Osamu sees Suna slicking up his own dick. It isn’t the first time he’s seen Suna’s dick, they all share a changeroom way too often for that kind of modesty, but it’s the first time he’d seen Suna erect. And he was definitely not lying when he said he was more than 2 fingers. _A grower not a show-er huh._ He considered himself pretty physically strong, but there was no way that was going inside him and not _splitting him in half._

Suna adjusts his dick, poking at Osamu’s hole with a few experimental thrusts. Osamu whimpers as Suna’s dick brushes against his entrance each time.

“Stop fussing, it’s going in you one way or another.”

A hand comes up to cover his mouth again and Osamu is secretly a little relieved. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stay quiet during this. He stiffens, however, when Suna’s other hand comes to rest on his throat. 

The burn is incredible as Suna shoves his dick into Osamu. Every millimetre feels monumental, and every second feels like hours. Time is an elastic concept as Osamu whines, sweating with fear and exertion as Suna finally stops. He is _impaled_ on Suna’s dick right now. He can feel Suna’s hips where they touch his ass. He can feel Suna’s dick twitch _inside him._

And then, Suna starts moving.

It feels like... It feels like nothing he’s ever felt before. It feels like nothing he’s even ever _considered_ before. Suna never pulls out entirely, leaving him stuffed with the heavy weight of fullness constantly. One particularly sharp thrust of Suna’s hips slams against his prostate. Osamu howls loudly, the noise becoming muffled off by Suna’s deft fingers invading his mouth. Then, Suna starts thrusting his fingers in and out, in and out of Osamu’s mouth at the same brutal pace he insists on hitting his prostate. Filled up from both ends, he’s helpless to do anything but just take it as Suna fucks his ass and mouth. 

“You look so pretty like this ‘Samu,” Suna coos, “I wish I could show you how you look, lips stretched around me. You’re even sucking my fingers so eagerly.”

At his words, Osamu’s tongue stills. He hadn’t even realised he’d been doing that. _Fuck._

“You’re a natural born whore, it’s instinct to you, isn’t it? If I just do this...” Two spit slick fingers graze the back of his throat as Suna releases his hold on Osamu’s throat to pump his dick. A choked moan spills from his lips.

“...And this…” Suna continues sliding his grip up and down Osamu’s dick. He times each stroke to the thrust of his hips and his fingers plundering Osamu’s mouth like he’s conducting the world’s horniest orchestra.

“...you’ll break apart in my hands,” he purrs into Osamu’s ear, nipping at the lobe as he does. Suna’s right. The sensations are overwhelming, he’s being toyed in Suna’s hands and with his words. Worst of all is, he likes it. He _likesitsomuch._ The way his body is being jostled by Suna ramming into his hole, forcing the fingers in his mouth deep into his throat. The way he’s bobbing his head eagerly, keeping his mouth open even as his jaw starts to ache. The way he feels so utterly full of Suna in every part of him that there’s not even room for Osamu to _think._

Osamu’s toes curl, his knees lock and his entire body freezes up. Even his ass is clenching around Suna’s dick, drawing a breathy moan, the first crack in composure he’s displayed all night. 

“Faster,” he forces out around the gag in his mouth. “Fuck me faster, harder. _Please._ ” It sounds garbled and probably unintelligible, but Suna understands as soon as Osamu starts slamming his own hips back against Suna in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Sweetheart, I thought you’d never ask.”

Suna pulls out for the first time all night, before fluidly moving them so that Osamu finds himself on his front, face down in the pillow, hips being dragged up. Before Osamu had time to process the odd emptiness in his ass, Suna’s dick is fucking into him again. At this new angle, he feels Suna hit deeper with each thrust, dragging against Osamu’s prostate for longer as he does.

A heavy hand squeezes the back of his neck. Another hand fisted into his hair shoves his face firmly into the pillow as Suna drives into him at a brutal pace. He bites his moans down on the pillow, secretly lamenting the loss of long fingers shoved in his mouth as he struggles to take satisfying breaths. 

“You’re perfect like this, made into nothing more than a toy to be fucked.” Suna coos, yanking Osamu up by his hair to take gulping gasps of air just as he was dizzying. “Now that you’re mine, I’ll keep you full constantly, slick and open with a plug so that you’ll always be ready for me to use your hole. I’ll fuck you in the gym store room, the one only Kita-san has keys to. I’ll use you in your own bedroom, in a public restroom. I’ll have you sliding to your knees and choking on my cock in a cinema, so you never forget what it feels like to be filled. With. Me.” 

Each word is punctuated by Suna driving home, groaning with exertion and heady arousal. Osamu keens, rocked by the thrusts. The noise is smothered again by the pillow meeting his face as Suna nips and sucks at his neck. There’ll be pretty jewels of bruises there tomorrow, marking Osamu for everyone to see. His own dick leaks at the thought, and suddenly Osamu realises he’s dangerously close to cumming just like this. Fucked hard, face down, being marked like property.

“Suna I-” he breaths, “I’m gonna, gonna cum,” his words turning into a gasp as they were fucked out of him.”

“ _Good slut._ You’re going to cum from my cock and my words alone.” 

Osamu tries to shake his head. “Can’t. Has to. Has to be ya.”

He hears Suna’s sharp inhale. The hand in his hair loosens it’s grip, moving to his dick.

“Fuck into my hand then. Cum like the desperate slut that you are.” 

Moving his hips, Osamu frantically seeks friction against Suna’s hands. The pleasure is exhilarating, dick pumped and ass full. Suna has stopped moving behind him as well, leaving Osamu to voluntarily impale himself on Suna. Mindlessly chasing an orgasm, a slut through and through. 

He can’t even bring himself to care. It’s so close, the pleasure is building greater and greater. He can hear himself moaning quietly interspersed with staccato breaths. Suna remains still behind him, though Osamu will feel his dick twitch and the bitten off moans that Suna tries to hide as Osamu takes him _deep._

The orgasm hits him like a wall, knocking all the air out of his lungs and turning his body into jelly.. The waves of pleasure still wash over him, as he flops limp and exhausted, not even caring that he’s lying on his own cum drying into the mattress. 

Unpleasantly, he’s shocked out of his post orgasm bliss by Suna’s taller frame looming over him again. His hands grab Osamu’s hips to raise his ass up again before a hand settles back on his neck. The other grabs his wrists and pins them down. He doesn’t know why Suna bothers. Osamu’s too tired to fight back at this point, but he still whines when Suna slips back into his well fucked ass.

“I hope you didn’t think this was over. It would be rather rude of you to keep me wanting.”

Honestly Osamu had completely forgotten about Suna, blindly chasing his own release. 

“It’s not over until I’ve cum in your ass and properly marked you as mine.” Violent thrusts accompany his words; Suna is visibly reaching the end of his self-restraint as he nears his own orgasm. 

After he'd cum, Osamu is oversensitive and it _hurts._ Even more than when Suna was first splitting him open with his dick. Each brush of his prostate is pain mingled with confusing pleasure. _Finally_ , Suna’s hips stutter forward, dick pulsing as he comes inside Osamu with a soft moan. Suna’s cum inside him is hot and heavy, settling like a sticky physical weight inside his ass and in his gut. 

Once Suna’s dick has twitched with the last spurt of his release, he pulls out. Osamu stays in position, face down, ass up, feeling drips of cum sliding down his thighs. 

“Well,” Suna laughs, patting Osamu’s ass condescendingly, “that was fun. See you at practise tomorrow ‘Samu. Hope you can still attend, you know Kita-san doesn’t take any excuses on the last day.” 

Out from the corner of his eye, he can see Suna stretching where he’s sitting, already back in his pants with a towel casually slung over his shoulder. Suna rises in one easy movement. Osamu finally collapses, lying on his back to stare Suna dead in the eyes. He doesn’t care that there’s now sticky cum leaking out of him, probably staining this mattress forever. He lies there, naked and exposed as Suna smiles and gives him a little wave as he walks toward the bedroom door.

“Oh. And clean yourself up. Here. I came prepared.” Suna tosses him a small packet of tissues as he slips out the door and into the corridor, heading back to his own room.

He’d liked it. 

Why had he _liked_ it?

How did Suna know? Was it so obvious? Did he walk around with a flashing neon sign above his head reading “Osamu Miya is a slut! Fuck me! I’ll even beg for it!”

Maybe Suna was just trying to help him, by showing him this truth before he could lie to anyone else. That he’d never felt pure pleasure like when he was fucked and gagged. He secretly hopes that Suna will keep good on his promise to use Osamu like he deserves (like he _wants_ ). His dick is valiantly hardening again at the vivid mental images that flood his thoughts. 

Osamu runs a hand through his hair and sighs. He reaches for the tissues Suna left behind, and opens the packet.

Tomorrow, he’d talk to Suna.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> awkwardness and aftercare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think i got a cavity from writing this, which is probably a previously unsaid sentence in the context of this trope

“I almost started laughing when ya made up the stuff about hurtin’ Atsumu. Ya should get an Oscar for that acting.“

  
Suna groans and pretends to smother himself with the rolled up comforter across the room from Osamu. Apparently an artfully arranged and crumpled shikibuton made for a convincingly human shaped lump in the shadows. The actual human shaped lump called Atsumu had swapped rooms with Suna for the night. It took several gentle hints from Suna and a blunt ‘get out, Rin and me are gonna fuck’ from Osamu to banish Atsumu, but truly they were doing him several thousand favours. The real loser in this was poor Gin, the latest victim of Atsumu’s snoring.

Suna is dragging the other mattress over to Osamu now, his cheeks still red from his flush of embarrassment. 

“It was kinda weird saying all that degrading stuff to you, but also hot in a way?” Suna says, “I’d do it again if you aske- are you wiping lube out of your ass?”

It was Osamu’s turn to cringe and blush crimson. Nobody told him that sex was this fucking awkward. He would’ve thought that after asking Suna to choke him and violate him that all feeling of shame was off the table. Seems like it doesn’t work that way.

“I refuse ta answer that. Look away. Stop staring.”

“I’ve literally been in you.”

“Stop being difficult and LOOK AWAY.” 

Osamu refuses to acknowledge that he might be pouting right now. He discards the used tissues and crawls into bed. Suna’s arms are outstretched in invitation, his smile languid and beautiful and overflowing with love. Osamu would be the happiest man in the world to see that smile every night, day and all the hours in between. There’s a dozen things he wants to tell Suna, but instead, he settles into his arms.

“Stop rubbing your ass against my dick. If I get hard again I think I’m going to pass out from all the blood loss from my brain.” Suna grumbles, jostling one arm under Osamu’s neck and curling the other gently around his waist.

  
“ ‘m not doing it on pu’pose, just wantcha to hold me tighter.” Osamu yawns. “ ‘m so tired. Think ya fucked the consciousness right outta me.” 

Osamu turns to face Suna and makes a show of leering suggestively, “and ya know. Also fucked right in’ta me.”

Suna huffs a laugh, his breath warm.

“One more bad joke and I’m never having sex with you again.”

“Aw. Don’t make me the first person ta die of a vitamin dick deficiency.”

Suna flings his hand across his eyes, sighing exasperatedly. The resounding slap is comically loud in the empty room.

“I think I preferred it when you were acting all doe eyed and terrified of me.”

“Well, next time, we can play out one of ya kinks.”

Suna’s face drops into a deadpan expression. “Actually Osamu, my kink is clear and consistent communication.” 

Osamu snorts, turning to blow a puff of air into Suna’s face. He likes seeing Suna scrunch up his nose in that cute way of his. It made Suna look a little like a fox, right before they sneeze.

“Too unrealistic. Settle for being ravished by a tall, dark and powerful stranger like the rest of us.”

He pretends to swoon, falling melodramatically further into Suna’s embrace. Suna curls his arms obligingly around him, pressing a gentle kiss to Osamu’s cheek. He nuzzles into the kiss, quietly pleased with the little catch of breath from Suna that means he finds the action absolutely adorable.

“You forgot ‘handsome’, ‘stressed about if I was hurting you’ and ‘an immaculate actor’ thank you very much. I’m praying to any and all Gods that nobody looks at my search history.”

“Boomer. Learn to use incognito mode.”

Suna makes an indignant splutter. 

“I’m putting gags on my list of kink requests. Not even for sexy reasons, but for my own reputation’s sake.”

“And for sexy reasons.”

  
Suna sighs fondly, “and for sexy reasons.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bad end, tread carefully

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Samu! I'll pay for your therapy bills

Suna tails him all morning, yapping talkatively as he ushers Osamu into the dining room with a hand on his waist. Suna grabs him breakfast. Suna makes them both some tea. Suna strokes his leg with his foot while they eat. Suna, Suna, _Suna._ His presence seems inescapable, suffocating and from his smirks, Osamu can tell that he knows it.

As the team chitters before their warmups, Suna’s slender fingers creep to wrap around Osamu’s waist, pulling him to his side. The gesture must look adorable, almost tender to the team, but Osamu stiffens, resisting the urge to flinch away. A cold touch slips under his jersey, tracing circles into his hip. Osamu focuses on the unhurried drag of Suna’s fingernails, floating in the sensation of his body not being his own. There’s a kiss at his forehead ( _soft, loving)_ and someone whoops in delight (Gin? Akagi?).

He’s vaguely aware that Suna is telling everyone that he and Osamu are dating. He sees Gin sigh and slides Aran 300 yen. Kita is coming up to them and offering formal congratulations. Atsumu starts pointing out the marks forming around Osamu’s neck, before putting 2 and 2 together and realising that _holy shit his brother had sex_ , and shutting up.

Osamu’s never been more disappointed to hear Atsumu stop talking.

He’ll be safe for a while on the court, but tonight Suna will have asked Kita to swap rooms with Atsumu. Since it’s their last day of camp and even Kita relaxes on the last night, he will say yes. After tonight, Osamu will limp gingerly to the bus that takes them home. He’ll sit tensely the whole ride, trying to ignore the jolts of pain that shoot up through his body when the bus goes over bumps. And after tomorrow, Suna will ask him out on a proper date, and shyly ask to hold his hand. They’ll see a movie, a comedy, and split the popcorn. And after a while, Osamu will genuinely, gently, fall in love with Suna.

Thoroughly possessed, body and heart. Like a _good slut._

_Pathetic._


End file.
